Oops!
by facelesswriting
Summary: What happens when Hermione Granger, the girl who thinks of everything, doesn't? The war might be over, but for some, there are more battles to be had, and lives will change. Forever.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione sat looking down at the little white, pink ended stick in front of her in horror. She already knew of course, but the confirmation was devastating in it's own way. She had no idea how this school year was going to work.

"Honey?" Her mom's clear, calm voice rose from downstairs, calling her to action. She huffed, stashing the stick in her trunk, not to be found by her parents while she was gone. Taking the stairs quickly, Hermione joined her parents for dinner.

Her father smiled as she sat, primly placing her napkin over her lap and crossing her legs. "It's weird to be losing you again so quickly."

Huffing our a laugh, Hermione smiled at him, "You're not losing me. It's school." It was a lie though and she knew it. Her parents did too. It was seventh year and after this year, she wouldn't be returning home for summer breaks. Instead, she would complete the process of transitioning into a completely different world than her parents. As excited as she was, she was also terrified.

Hastily, she picked up her fork, eager to banish the conversation from her mind. Unfortunately, it wasn't so easy for her parents, wishing to tie her back to them. "Whatever happened to that boy from the library that you liked so much?"

Hermione's eyes went wide, "How did you-"

"How did we know? Don't be silly. A mother always knows. You were so upset about you and Ron at the beginning of the summer, you burrowed yourself away there. Then you came home one day and suddenly, you weren't so sad anymore. We knew you met someone."

Her parents shared a look, smugly between each other, and Hermione's face scrunched as she decided what to say. It was true that she was devastated after Ron ended things. After Harry and Dumbledore got back from finding yet a fake Resurrection Stone ring, just like the one that had mangled Dumbledore's hand last summer, the Final Battle had waged at Hogwarts. Harry and Dumbledore had realized that between the two of them, they had two thirds of the Hallows, just as Voldemort had. When Malfoy had killed Dumbledore but Hogwarts hadn't fallen, Voldemort himself came. When Harry got the wand from Malfoy and Neville got the ring from Nagini's corpse, it was short work to get rid of Voldemort.

Hogwarts wasn't the same for the final weeks of the school year, and neither were she and Ron, but that didn't mean she'd found new love this summer. Ron had said all sorts of kind things during their break up, but one of them hurt the most. She wasn't exciting anymore. Oh, he didn't say it like that. He phrased it very nicely. But the truth was, without the constant threat of death and the fight for their lives, she and Ron had no spark, and this summer she'd been desperate to find that spark somewhere.

Her foray with a kind-eyed boy in the back of his SUV in the library parking lot hadn't exactly sated her urge to find adventure, but it did show her that wasn't the way for her to go about things. She had been happier though afterwards. It had given her a new purpose, and she'd decided to follow the boys in their quest to become aurors.

Heart tightening painfully at the thought, she swallowed down her bite of peas to answer her parents. "It didn't work out."

Her tone or her face told her parents that this conversation was not to be continued. While they thought she was mourning her supposed failed summer romance, she was mourning the ending of her career before it ever began. She swallowed thickly, telling herself it was not the end, and wishing she could believe it.

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**A/N: I noticed about halfway through this that all my paragraphs started with H so I'm seeing how long I can keep it up! Let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hogwarts was much the same as it always had been, though she finally realized why Harry hated the train. With so many people clamouring for her attention, her autograph, a piece of her unwanted fame all in such close quarters, she wish she could simply curl up and hide. Ron loved the attention, per usual, and Hermione bit back a grin as Harry had gently nudged him out of their compartment to be with his adoring fans, locking the door behind him.

Harry was looking at her with the same kind, almost sad, eyes now over dinner. She wondered absently if it was his own battle that had given Dumbledore that look in his eyes. Then she questioned him about his peculiar despondency.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing, just… Well it's just that everything's changed now, hasn't it?"

"Has it?" She felt herself get hot and wondered how he knew - and so soon!

"Ha!" He said without humor. "Of course it has. He's gone. I've killed somebody. Hell! We've _all_ killed somebody now." She winced at his words and wrapped her arms tightly around her midsection, praying this year went quickly, but having no idea where it was off to.

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**A/N: Short chapters, obviously. Let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

"How are you!" It was more of an exclamation than a question as Madam Pomfrey pulled Hermione into a hug.

Hugging her back, Hermione forced a smile. "I should have visited sooner-"

"Hush!" The matronly old witch cut her off. "Absolute nonsense. You'd every right to spend time with your family rather than check up on the school." Madam Pomfrey hit her with a withering gaze. "Unless that's not the reason you'd need to see me." While Hermione and Madam Pomfrey had worked closely on caring for the less devastatingly wounded students at the end of the year previous, that wasn't what Hermione had meant, and it was easily readable on her face.

"Here," Madam Pomfrey ushered the young teen into her office and proffered a chair. "What seems to be the trouble?"

Hesitantly Hermione began telling Poppy about her little predicament, and the more she said, the more sombre Poppy's face got. The longer she spoke, the faster the words seemed to spill from her mouth until finally Poppy had to hush her again.

"Hermione. This is the not end of the world. This doesn't mean the end of your career. If you let it, this could actually be a very good, very happy thing. Therapeutic, if you will, if not to you, then maybe to someone else."

Hermione knew immediately what she was suggesting, but she was surprised by Madam Pomfrey's next words, "If that's not how it is though, we can remedy the situation." From the beginning Hermione knew that wasn't an option she wanted to peruse - though she was glad it was there for the people it was right for. She shook her head vehemently.

Helpfully, Madam Pomfrey seemed to understand her nonverbals. "We'll get you started on some potions then, my dear, but don't you worry. Things will work out just fine. Now. I hate to usher you off, but I do have a private appointment."

Her eyebrows went together as Hermione was not so subtly pushed to the door. She'd never heard of a private appointment before. Her confusion was alleviated when she saw Professor Snape stride through the doors. Though perhaps "stride" was the wrong word. He'd taken a brutal beating in the final battle, nearly dying, and hadn't quite recovered yet.

His face pulled into the ghost of a sneer but in reality, she didn't think his muscles actually even twitched. They passed each other, not saying a word as he stalked with his new limping gait and she scurried with her new hunched posture.

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**A/N: Is it obvious yet? It won't be for a while for her classmates... Let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

Hurrying to class, Hermione skipped breakfast the next day. Somehow she'd overslept and she was drawing more attention to herself than she ever could have wanted as she slipped into potions late.

Hatred, same as the years' past, seeped into Snape's stare as he glared at her. She hunched further in response.

He was detailing the reason they should not take this class - almost as if he wished no one to learn his craft - when one of the reasons caught her particular attention. "Could you repeat that?" She questioned, raising her hand at the same time her words tumbled from her mouth in her haste to hear it again.

Half the class spun to look at the girl who dared interrupt him, while the other half stared at Snape in horror, anticipating his reaction. Instead of dismantling her pride as he would have in the past, he merely repeated, "If any student has any physical restrictions that would inhibit them from attending class on the day of more potent chemicals, the student would be excused."

Hermione paled, "And such a restriction would be…"

His eyes narrowed, but he answered her anyway, "Severe allergy, asthma, pregnancy, pre-existing curse symptoms…"

Hearing nothing but a faint buzzing, she nodded her head as Snape went back to droning on.

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**A/N: You never know... leaving a review could help me update faster...**


	5. Chapter 5

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron pulled her aside as soon as they left the class. Ron exploding as Harry merely watched on in that quiet way he'd adopted. "What was that! He could've killed you!"

"He would not have," she lightly slapped his arm, pointedly glancing back at Harry as if to say, 'See? We can get along. Stop staring at me.'

"He's changed. I think," She continued as they walked, feeling squirmy standing there with students and Harry staring at her alike. She could never tell what they wanted from her. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, feeling that this was the first day, and it'd already felt like several years long.

Half-breaking from her friends as they moved on to discussing other things, she let her fingers trail along the seam between the bricks of the castle walls.

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**A/N: Short, but get ready for a time hop! Let me know what you think!**


	6. Chapter 6

Her fingers were trailing along the wall when Harry caught up her her, grinning hysterically. McGonagall had given him captain yet again this year, and he was ecstatic. They'd won their second match of the year not a half hour ago, and she'd thought he'd still be celebrating in the common room.

"Hermione!" He cried, face red with intoxication. "What're you doing out here?"

Hating the choked feeling in her throat blocking her words, she shrugged. It's nothing really. She told herself. You cry a lot. You just cry a lot.

He looked at her askance, but when he spoke, she thought she must've misjudged his drunkenness. "You okay?" She nodded again but it wasn't enough for him.

"Have a drink. Come back to the party. You know McGonagall doesn't care or it wouldn't be happening. She knows everything. In any case, you're out after curfew so you're breaking rules anyway. I promise you, 'Mione, no one will judge you for loosening up a little bit. We all need it."

Hopelessly, she followed him back, accepting the glass of spiked pumpkin juice he gave her, but setting it down, undrank, at the nearest convenience.

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**A/N: We're now in November. It's my goal to publish this all once, and quick, then go back and add length and detail. Let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was already awake, though it was early that sunday morning. She wasn't sure how he'd managed not to be hungover after the party last night, but he wasn't even flinching at the students yelling next to him. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat next to him.

"Hey!" She flinched at the noise. "Where'd you get off to last night? You didn't escape again?"

Hopeful eyes looked at her, wanting her to be okay, wanting whatever she wasn't telling them to be fine. She lied. "Goodness! It was so much fun. Honestly I don't know how I'm on my feet this morning. This is my first hangover and if this is the price of drinking, I'm never doing it again."

Harry's eyes lit up, accepting the lie easily, not because it was convincing but because he wanted it to be true so badly. "Yeah, Ron says that every time. He's not up yet, but we can still go get breakfast?"

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. Their day was one of the most normal she'd had since returning this year. She nagged the boys about their schoolwork, told Ron not to inhale his food, got ahead in her studies. She felt normal. She felt _good_. Until dinner.

Heaping food onto his plate like usual, Ron didn't notice when her expression changed, but Harry did. Immediately he was tense, asking what was wrong, what he could help with. Dozens of eyes turned towards her as they heard him, and the more stopped talking to look, the more attention she drew. She shook her head at Harry, standing up, motioning for him to sit back down before she turned and quickly made her way out of the Great Hall.

Heaving unproductively, she was startled when Blaise Zabini walked in on her. "Granger! What the hell! This is the men's loo-"

His tirade was stopped short when he saw her on her knees, veritably worshipping as she bent over the toilet again and realized what she was doing.

Hand warm on her back, he waited until she was finished before conjuring a glass of water. "You okay?"

Hermione huffed, glad she'd been able to pull her hair up before this had begun, but still embarrassed at the mess she must be. "Sorry. This one was closer. I'll get out so you can-"

He interrupted her, "Are you _okay_?"

"Hungover," she muttered, throwing him a sharp look.

Hermione could tell he didn't believe her but he neglected to say anything contrary, rising slowly. "I'll go to another. Take you time in here. Feel better."

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**A/N: Well _he's_ unexpected, no? Let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was devastated, as she knew she would be, when she woke up bright and early Monday morning. She rose with her classmates for breakfast but neglected to go to class that morning. Skipping was something she'd never done and honestly, she was ready to throw caution to the wind and go anyway, but she couldn't. Contrary to Zabini's well-wishes, she was not better. She couldn't _get_ better.

Holding her sweater to her tightly, she shivered as November wind bled the warmth from her body. She was sitting outside, the one place she knew no one else would be - and the one place anybody was least likely to look for her. She knew there would be questions at dinner, questions she had no answers for, but she couldn't think about that now.

However unexpectedly, it wasn't the questions that bothered her that night. It was the dark, knowing eyes staring at her from across the Great Hall.

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**A/N: Hermione? Skipping class? Never! Let me know what you think!**


	9. Chapter 9

Having to skip her second day of class midway through November was unexpected. The potion was only announced the day before and Hermione had no chance to feign illness beforehand. It wasn't as if she'd really need it though. Harry had sharper eyes than usual this year, and even Ron, in his haze of fame, had noticed she wasn't all right. No matter what Madam Pomfrey was able to do for her, she was still thinner from the stress, and she could barely look at herself in the mirror.

Hating the way her body was changing was only half the problem. She was so tired all of the time. While she wasn't terribly sick, she had no appetite, and thought that was part of the reason she never had energy. As her condition worsened, more eyes subtly turned to her, even as she thought she'd been discrete.

He stopped her in the hallway that day.

"Hermione?" Use of her first name threw her, and she stopped, perhaps more quickly than he'd expected, and he nearly ran into her. "I noticed you weren't in class again today." Blaise Zabini was never one to beat around the bush and Hermione instantly paled. He knew.

"How?" She demanded.

His eyebrows went up, "Well your station is right in front of mine…" She shook her head quickly. Obviously that's not what she meant. "Okay look, you never skip class, and you've skipped class twice this semester, but only potions. You look sick, but you're not sick enough to not attend your other classes. It's not easy to piece together that you only miss on the days we're handling the most dangerous ingredients. But you've never done that before so it's not an allergy. That only leaves two options left."

"How'd you decide which it was?"

"Headmistress McGonagall is busy. No one can deny that. Between her duties as Headmistress, being Head of House, and having to cover her old classes until they find someone, she's swamped, but she'd never let a student walk around cursed for this long." Students streamed past them, and as worried as Hermione was that one of them would overhear, she knew both she and, for some reason, Zabini were being too discrete for anyone to know what they were talking about without stopping. She was impressed, both with his logic and his ability to talk around the subject.

Hermione frowned, "So what do you want?" At his questioning look she clarified, "To keep quiet, what do you want?"

He was shaking his head before she'd even finished. "I'm not blackmailing you. I'm offering-" he dropped to one knee, rummaging through his knapsack until he found a bundle of parchment and held it up for her, muggle proposal-style. "I'm offering help."

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**A/N: Ah! So what do you think? Is he trustworthy? Or is it a trick? Let me know what you think!**


	10. Chapter 10

'Help,' Hermione thought to herself as she laid in bed that night. It wasn't something she suspected from a Slytherin, especially without the promise of something in return, but Blaise, as he'd insisted she call him, had been adamant. He would accept and expect nothing.

His notes on potions from that day's lesson had been thorough and neat. She read them multiple times, once not absorbing them because she couldn't believe she was really seeing them, and the final time just to appreciate the clean swirls of his handwriting.

Heaving a sigh, she rolled over. If he'd figured it out, it was only a matter of time before Professor Snape did too. She hadn't told him, preferring to take the absences and face his wrath - of which there was perilously little of this year - than admit to him why she could not attend. It was a conversation she would _not_ have with him of all people. First, because she owed the truth to her friends before she owed it to him, and second, because, unlike Poppy, he was not bound to confidentiality.

Hypocritical, she thought to herself, that she wouldn't tell a professor before her friends but somehow a supposed former enemy knew before them. It couldn't be helped, she told herself, which was true enough. He'd figured it out on her own, and that led to a circle of her thinking that it was only a matter of time.

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**A/N: Just a matter of time... You guys have figured it out right? Let me know what you think!**


	11. Chapter 11

Harry confronted her a week and a half after Blaise did.

"Hermione?" He asked gently. Ron was down in the common room with a bunch of girls from younger years, regaling them with stories of battles, and she didn't know where the other boys were, but she and Harry were lounging across his bed in his empty dormitory.

"Hm?" She hummed, not looking up from her potions textbook. She'd gone over and over Blaise's notes but it wasn't the same thing as seeing the concept played out before you, and she was struggling to understand. She was just happy he'd offered to be her partner for the physical portion of Defense they'd just gone through. She wasn't sure how she'd have explained leaving class early for an entire week.

"Hermione," Harry said more forcefully when it became apparent that she wasn't paying him any attention. "You cannot hide forever."

"Hide?" She asked skeptically, her eyebrows rising.

Harry sighed, shutting his book and sitting upright. "I know how you act. This isn't it. You're overly emotional. It's December. You've been weird since the beginning of the semester which means at least September. That's four months of acting like no one sees you or can tell you're off. How many more do you expect to be able to go before someone sees something?" He looked pointedly at her stomach where she was laying on her side.

Huffing, she followed suit, also snapping her book shut and sitting, careful to arrange her robes around her. She had to admit that he had a point. I had been hard making sure no one was looking at her, especially when she'd missed class for the third time today. Eyes followed her wherever she went anyway, but more so now that people thought she was behaving oddly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He pinned her with a look. "I'm not stupid, and I'm not as blind as Ron. You can pretend with me, and I'll let you, but when someone sees something they shouldn't or Zabini hits you with an unpulled curse-"

"He won't." His lips pressed together in a thin line at her insistence, but he let it go, choosing to fight another battle for the time being.

"Hermione, it'll just come better if it comes from you."

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**A/H: Oh Harry, always underestimated. Let me know what you guys think!**


	12. Chapter 12

He was right, Hermione lamented the next day in class. Snape had been unexplainably compliant all year, as if, now that he no longer had to keep the cover of spy, he was just a regular professor. Days like today, however, showed that he still had a mean streak. Spit flew from his mouth as he yelled at her, singled out for her ineptitude on a potion because she'd not practiced the techniques needed with her accumulating absences.

Hermione cowered in her seat, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Harry sat next to her, the back of his hand brushing hers in comfort, but her eyes still sought out Blaise's. He sat stoically, his face unchanged as if uncaring, but she knew it was an act. Acting, it seemed, was what Slytherins were best at. The barrating dragged on until she no longer knew what Snape was saying. She hadn't even made a big mistake, but it'd ruined her potion as surely as if she's blown it up.

However much she tried, she couldn't bite back the tears any longer, and shame welled up inside her as they spilled down her cheeks. Somehow this just seemed to make the professor even madder.

"How? How!" He yelled. "How did you think you'd keep up? Did everyone telling you you're the smartest witch of your age finally go to your head? However smart you may think you are, you're still an imbecile! A nitwit! Incapable! The lot of you! I demand an answer Ms Granger or I will take 50 points for every second you make me wait."

Hermione flinched but still couldn't give him an answer. He snarled then starting counting. "50...100...150…" All the Gryffindors surrounding her flinched with every number he spoke. He got louder as he went. "200! 250!"

Hermione couldn't take it, and she jumped to her feet, feeling her hand slip from Harry's as he tried to hold her back. She fled. Sobbing.

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**A/N: This chapter honestly hurt to write. I hate mean Snape. Let me know what you guys think!**


	13. Chapter 13

Hopelessly, she tried to ignore the disbelieving stares of her classmates at dinner. First, they were turned to the hourglasses at the front of the Hall as students' murmured questioningly about what had happened. Shortly, the word was spread and the eyes turned to look at her accusingly instead. She wanted to curl into a ball and hide.

Hide. It was exactly what Harry said she couldn't do anymore. Maybe he was right, she decided, rising from her seat. Whispers broke out again as she climbed the dias to the professors' table. She walked swiftly up to where Professor Snape sat on the very furthest edge from the Gryffindor table.

Harry watched her go, knowing exactly what she was doing, exactly what she was telling him. He watched on with the rest of the student body, like them, not knowing what the outcome would be. It was obvious from the shake in her shoulders that Hermione was crying. Ron nudged his elbow and he turned to see he and Ginny were both staring at him, wide-eyed, as if he could tell them what was going on. Looking past them, he could see the whole of Gryffindor was torn between watching her and searching his face for answers. Silently he turned back to watch.

Hesitantly but then smoother, Snape rose from his chair. Beside him Flitwick had gone white with shock. Swiftly, Snape rounded the table, his face unreadable. The Hall took a collective gasp when the sound of falling rubies hit their hourglass, 300 points immediately being added. More surprisingly was that Snape put both of his hands on Hermione's shoulders, seeming to speak softly to her, almost comfortingly, even as she cried all the more. He then turned her, putting his arm around the crying student and leading her from the Hall.

Harry's eyes turned to follow them, but got stuck on the penetrating gaze of Blaise Zabini looking back at him from across the exspanse of the tables. Zabini broke it before he did, jumping up and following them out of the frozen hall.

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**A/N: Here we go! Kind Snape for the win! Let me know what you guys think!**


	14. Chapter 14

_Pregnant_.

'I said it.' Hermione thought to herself. 'I finally was able to say it.'

Even when she'd told Madam Pomfrey, she'd been unable to bring herself to say the actual word. She'd just given her the pregnancy test and told her what had happened all summer. Pomfrey had taken it well. She was a little shaken up that such a prize pupil had done something that might interfere with her education, but Hermione had reminded her that students - even the best of students - have a life outside of class. They're not to blame for that.

Snape, on the other hand, was taking it better… or maybe worse? He'd taken the news of her pregnancy well, apologizing and awarding her back the points he'd taken as well as giving some for her remarkable ability to remain calm - something that was totally unexpected. He'd then swiftly led her from the Great Hall down to the Infirmary.

Hermione appreciated the twist in the halls they took, as she'd thought they were heading to his office at first. This was a much more neutral ground, and she was already upset. She recognized the need for some professors to know, but didn't want the entire student body staring at her. Sitting on the edge of a cot and waiting until Snape pulled up a simple wooden chair to sit before her, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Halfway through explaining that she'd already told Poppy and that she was, in fact, on all the correct potions, Blaise flung open the door, Harry shortly behind him. Snape's eyebrow arched up in a perfect, questioning bow. "They both know," she hastily told him.

Snape clicked his tongue. "Hmm. You've been using Mr. Zabini's potion notes then." Hermione was surprised that he put it together so quickly, but she nodded. He rose, giving her one last - comforting? - glance before going off to inform the headmistress.

The boys were surprisingly civil with one another, accepting with ease that they both had a place here, and Hermione smiled, feeling as if, for the first time since July, everything was going to be okay.

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**A/N: So. Sh says it! Did you guys guess right? What do you think of her revelation? Her new allies? Her situation? Let me know!**

**Also, sorry not sorry, we quit with the theme of starting every paragraph with an H. I thought it would have a big impact to start the chapter this way. Plus. It was actually really hard and I felt like I was starting to fall into a pattern of words to start with and it was getting repetitive and taking away from the overall story. The next chapter won't be picking back up with the Hs - hope you don't mind!**


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